


The Sidekick Game

by mattzerella_sticks



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bickering, Embarrassment, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Game Shows, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Old School, Sidekicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: The Riddler puts three pairs of heroes and sidekicks through an electrically terrifying game for the entertainment of millions watching wherever they can. Can the teams prove they know each other well enough to avoid punishment, or will certain things come to light that hadn't wanted to be said? What will the answers be on this new take of a beloved game show? And how will our heroes get themselves out of this predicament?





	The Sidekick Game

**Author's Note:**

> So I was inspired by this post right here:
> 
> https://mattzerella-sticks.tumblr.com/post/185298876071/the-newlywed-game-but-with-superheros-and-their
> 
> and needed to write something that wasn't Destiel (I've been doing it non-stop for three different challenges and I needed a BREAK). But thankfully I've caught up with deadlines and can finally start posting some other works as I wait for even more deadlines!
> 
> Until then, enjoy!

            Barry wakes up in a daze. He blinks his eyes open, vision blurry. An attempt to rub away the film covering his eyes is thwarted as he slowly realizes his wrists are shackled in front of him. Barry tugs at his chains, and then when that doesn’t work he tries vibrating out of them.

            “It’s not going to work,” Wally whispers from his side, “Tried to do it, too, but he prepped for us…”

            “He?” Barry asks, “He who?”

            “Well, well, well, it seems our final competitor has finally joined us!”

            Overhead lights flare to life and nearly blind him. With their help, though, Barry fully reaches consciousness. He focuses on the green-clad figure in front of him, whose golden cane rests under his chin.

            The Riddler grins at him, eyebrows hidden behind the brim of his bowler hat. “You do realize how rude it is,” he continues, “Keeping all of us waiting, holding up production?”

            “What?” Barry asks, gaze darting around the room, “Us… production -!”

            The longer his brain stays active the more of the situation he understands. He and Wally were chained side-by-side in a two-seater box on a makeshift stand. They weren’t the only ones in this predicament. To his right, Barry sees Bruce and his young ward, Dick, both fiddling with their shackles in attempts at freedom. And on the left were Diana and the younger Amazon Donna, peeking out behind her sister as she strains to tear the chains off from the counter. With her bracelets bound together, Barry knows it won’t work. Finally he turns to the front of the room and blanches at the tens of cameras facing them.

            “Yes, a production Flash! And you’re supposed to be the fast one…” the Riddler sighs and steps back, walking the length of the stage, “You’re going to need to be sharper if you want to win.”

            “Riddler!” Bruce calls out, “Stop grandstanding and let us go, you know this won’t end well for you.”

            “Pipe down, Batman,” the Riddler snarls, cane pointed towards the Caped Crusader, “The only thing I want to hear out of you is your answer!”

            Diana leans forward, steely glare enough to make Barry shudder. “An answer to what? What do you intend for us to do?”

            The Riddler wipes the disgruntled look on his face and plasters a creepier one over his features. “It’s simple, Princess, I’ve brought you all here to be the first competitors on my new game show…” He twirls his cane around before slamming the bottom of it to the stage. Behind him Barry hears thousands of bulbs flicker to life, their heat nearly burning. Barry cranes his neck as far as he can to get a glimpse of what’s there, seeing a sign that says, “The Sidekick Game!”

            “Where superheroes and their young helpers test how well they know each other,” Riddler explains, “In a series of questions they’ll have to answer!”

            “So unoriginal Riddler,” Dick chuckles, “Aren’t you worried you might get sued?”

            Wally bends over the stand, goading their captor further. “I think a guy who dresses like that doesn’t really care what happens to himself.”

            “Little brats!” the Riddler snarls, pressing a button on the side of his cane that sends volts of electricity up through the chains and into the six of them, causing Wally to slam into his seat.

            Barry shifts closer to him, “Kid! Kid, are you okay?”

            “Yeah, yeah…” Wally groans, “I’ll heal…”

            “Now if all the outbursts are out of the way –“

            “Just you wait!” Donna growls from her seat, not swayed by the tortuous shock, “When I break free that stick of yours is going straight up your a-aagh!” Her and Diana suffer through another round of electricity until she slumps over herself.

            “Like I said,” the Riddler huffs, smoothing out his jacket, “With the outbursts out of the way… we’ll _begin_.”

            He spins around and starts performing for the cameras with an intro taken from an amalgam of different game shows. Barry tunes him out throughout his speech and focuses instead on his cuffs. Inspecting them carefully, Barry searches for any flaw he could abuse.

            But as he’s heard from Bruce many times before the Riddler is annoyingly detail-oriented. There are no weaknesses to his prison Barry can spot in a cursory glance.

            Barry darts his gaze over to Bruce’s station, wondering how the other man fares. Stoically glaring in front of him, he doesn’t even need to look at his wrists to try and pick the locks. He watches Bruce’s deft fingers playing with the mechanisms in keen interest, hoping they’ll finesse the cuffs open and smack the Riddler to the ground.

            His pick sticks and breaks off in the lock, dashing any hope of Bruce coming to their rescue. And Diana chooses not to try, instead watching the Riddler’s antics with a mask of indifference. She must be waiting, Barry reasons, as he knows Diana wouldn’t be sitting patiently unless she had a plan.

            The sidekicks busy themselves, so Barry returns to his own chains. He rattles them, studying them. If he could find the weakest link, maybe by moving a few inches fast enough could break them.

            A harsh series of raps disturbs his process. “Hello, Flash?” the Riddler says, “You do realize it’s your turn?”

            “My – what?”

            “Catch up or you’ll be left behind,” he chuckles, “Bet you don’t hear that a lot do you?”

            Barry rolls his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

            “Answer the question.”

            “What question?”

            The Riddler’s good mood plummets and his thumb presses against that same button on his staff, sending a dangerous amount of electricity through his system. He hears both Wally and Bruce shout his name, but his jaw locks from the tremendous amount of power racing through him. In a beat it stops, and he pants from the exhaustive pain.

            “Pay attention,” the Riddler growls, “I won’t be repeating myself. Now… what is Kid Flash’s favorite _food_?”

            “Favorite… food?” Barry bites his tongue, about to respond with a sarcastic remark until he noticed how the Riddler hovered over the ‘shock’ button. He sighs, “Um… I don’t know… all food?”

            “…All food?”

            “Well he is a teenage boy,” Barry explains, “And we have super metabolisms so… yeah, all food.”

            The Riddler mulls his response over, drumming his fingers against the counter. The longer he goes the more severe Barry’s frown gets, until finally the Riddler accepts his answer. “But don’t be surprised if it’s not what’s on your sidekick’s white board! Kid Flash… if you would be so kind…”

            Wally slowly turns his board around, hiding a sheepish smile behind it. Written there in bold letters is ‘All Food’, leaving a flabbergasted Riddler and a proud Barry.

            Barry glances over at their host. “So… what do I get if I guess right?”

            The Riddler glares at him. “A reprieve.” He moves on to ask the same question to Diana, who answers it flawlessly – as expected. Barry feels a stare to his right, and looks to find Bruce watching him. Even under the mask he can tell Gotham’s Dark Knight concernedly checking him over. A small smile blossoms across his face, and he quietly mouths he’s okay.

            “And there we have it, round one!” the Riddler announces, startling Barry, “A good show by all… you heroes really care about your young’uns do you?”

            “What’s this all about Riddler?” Bruce asks him, “What’s the end result? I mean a game show? This isn’t like you.”

            “Yeah,” Dick scoffs, “You’d think he was the Cluemaster –“

            “How dare you even compare me to that sad, sorry copycat of a criminal you annoying, little –“ the Riddler pauses, his chest heaving with a righteous fury. Dick’s comment sent their host into fury, stomping his way back over to the first box. But then he takes a deep breath and recomposes himself. “It’s not about the result,” the Riddler informs them, “It’s about the game. And trust me when I say you lot will hope it never ends… Now sidekicks, hand over your whiteboards to your mentors for the next round. Heroes… what is your favorite movie?”

            The next hour was filled with a drawn-out gameplay where right answers earned you nothing and wrong answers led to another round of electricity that nearly shocked you into a coma. Barry suffered only twice more, having forgotten Wally’s least favorite rogue to fight (“Abracadabra, you know that guy’s a hack!”) and his favorite subject in school (“Lunch? Lunch! We’ve had hour-long conversations about _chemistry_ , B–Flash…”) Wally only got one question wrong about him, and they both were shocked for it. (“You can’t leave it blank! I thought for sure you had eyes for Ir-ow, ow, _ow_!”)

            At least the other teams had made missteps along the way, too. Dick and Bruce only got half their questions right, and with each wrong answer they bickered more and more. (“How was I supposed to know Batgirl was your first kiss, you don’t tell me these things!” “I figured you knew already! You know everything!” “Excuse me for respecting your privacy…”)

            And the Wonder Duo weren’t doing so well, not for Diana’s lack of trying. Every time the Riddler asked Donna a question, Diana knew exactly what she wrote down with no hesitation or doubt. Donna, however, only needed to get one question wrong to plummet in the game. (“Who cares about what year Diana became Wonder Woman I’m going to strangle you when I’m free – _gaaaahhh!_ ”)

            The Riddler frowned at each team, shaking his head. “Poor form… the whole lot of you. I’m disappointed to say that the Flashes, who started off the show like a turtle, are passing both of you sleeping hares.”

            Dick slams his hands on the counter. “Well if we’re not that entertaining why don’t you let us go?” He earns a five-second jolt for his question.

            “Because why would I do that when we’re down to the final question?” the Riddler asks, twirling his cane with practiced ease. “Sidekicks, please write down for me… what about your superhero partner annoys you the most?”

            Barry’s face freezes in panic, darting his gaze over to Wally. Wally, who for the most part had not been enjoying the Riddler’s quiz show trap, wore a devious grin as he conferred silently to his right. A quick peek confirmed that he and Dick were silently communicating with each other, the latter not deterred by Bruce’s harsh glare. Since they cameras were not props and actually filming, Barry knew the other man was doing his best to ensure his ward didn’t do anything to embarrass him. Unfortunately Dick grew immune to his dark stares years ago.

            “That’s enough time,” the Riddler decided, tapping at the stage with his cane, “Batman… what do you think Robin finds _most_ annoying?”

            Bruce takes a moment to look down at Dick intimidatingly before answering. “When I _ground_ _him_ from patrols?”

            The Riddler beams. “What an ominous answer… Robin? Did Batman match your answer?”

            Dick hisses. “No he did not.”

            “Well then what did you write down?”

            He says nothing, letting his white board do all the talking for him. Barry leaned over to see what Dick wrote. In big, bold letters, the word ‘FLIRTING’ stood out proud.

            “ _Flirting_?” the Riddler read aloud, “Batman’s a romantic is he?”

            “It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t all talk with no follow through,” Dick explains, “I mean how many times do I have to listen to him with Catwoman, with Poison Ivy, with Talia, with F-“

            “No,” Bruce growls, cutting him off, “don’t say it.”

            “Seriously?”

            “One month.”

            “You wouldn’t.”

            “ _Two_ months and…” Bruce draws the terrifying silence out artfully, “ _scales_.”

            Dick shudders, the white board clattering to the floor. “No…” Bruce stays firm, jaw set in that ridiculous way that even makes Clark blink.

            The Riddler remains unfazed. “You were saying?” he asks, “He also flirts with _who_?”

            With one last glance at his mentor, Dick tells the Riddler, “Under threat of embarrassment I will not be answering anymore questions, thank you and have a nice day.”

            That’s not what the Riddler was hoping to hear but nothing he does can compare to the hanging sword of Batman’s promise. So he gives up and moves over to Barry and Wally.

            “Flash,” he says, “we wasted enough time with the Bat and the Bird, so give me your answer quick.”

            “Uh, oh – well…” Barry’s mind races to come up with something. Too invested in Dick’s answer, he hadn’t put any thought into what Wally found annoying about him. So all he says is “Being late?”

            “Being… late?” the Riddler parrots.

            “…Yes?”

            “You? Even with your super speed?”

            “Just because I’m fast doesn’t mean I have good time management skills.”

            The Riddler shrugs, “Fair enough. Kid Flash, why don’t you tell your mentor what you wrote down?”

            Wally smirks as he flips the board. Barry reads what’s on the white board and blushes so deeply he’s sure his face blends with the lines of his cowl. “Flash’s obliviousness,” Wally says, “to Batman’s flirting.” Then, he drops the board to address Barry directly. “I mean how can you not see it? Even I can! I never got why you don’t tell him you’re not interested… or are you? Since  _apparently_ I was wrong earlier…”

            Lightning crackles inside Barry’s ears. He can’t hear anymore, Wally’s voice fading behind the static. Turning, he notices the Riddler’s raucous laughter and then Bruce tearing into Dick for no reason. As his sense returns, the storm clouds fading from his head, he speaks. “Br-Batman?” he says, startling the other man, “are they… are _you_ …?”

            Bruce can barely meet his gaze. Rosy blush creeps ever so slightly out from under Bruce’s cowl, and the cool composure he’s known for slips away leaving him more naked than if someone ripped his costume off of him.

            That’s answer enough for Barry.

            “Wow,” he breathes out, “I… _wow_.”

            “You know,” the Riddler says, drawing focus to him, “Normally I’d give a shock – I should’ve given it to you Batman moments ago. But the awkwardness happening right now, well honestly that’s a better punishment than any amount of electricity. So I’ll leave it to you and move on to the Amazon Princesses.”

            He hops away towards the final group, Bruce and Barry still floundering. Unable to find any words, Barry shoots Bruce one final look – hoping he understands the message behind it – and redirects his attention to Diana as she answers.

            “Easy,” she says, smiling, “Nothing.”

            “ _Nothing_?” the Riddler chuckles, “Well this is turning out to be my favorite question… I’ll bite, why would you say nothing?”

            “Because Donna and I are not only sisters _and_ best friends… but _Amazons_. We don’t let small things like annoyances affect us.”

            The Riddler nods. “Such a diplomatic answer even I’m having trouble finding faults. Wonder Girl… did your sister get it right?”

            Donna bites her lip as she holds out her white board.

            Diana reads it and scoffs. “Being perfect all the time! Donna –“

            “What?” she says, “I’m not wrong.”

            “I am _not_ perfect all the time!”

            “Suffering Sappho, I knew you wouldn’t understand –“

            “No, no, tell me. How am I _always_ perfect?”

            Their conversation quickly devolves into bickering, the pair of sisters off their seats and yelling at each other. Diana’s voice rises and echoes loudly in the abandoned theater, Barry shrinks into his seat. Being on the receiving end of Diana’s anger is more life threatening than one of Bruce’s glares.

            The Riddler, who was amused by it in the beginning, now grows tired of their argument. Their fighting derails his show, and Barry can see him toying with the shock button, trying to get them to calm down. When that doesn’t work he presses down and quickly electrocutes both of them. It still doesn’t tame their fighting spirit. His frown deepens, and he inches closer, laying the electricy on harsher than before.

            “I was saving this,” he says, “for the end. The _grand_ finale… but since we’re at that point anyway!” Diana and Donna cry out in pain, succumbing to the shock and collapsing back onto their seats worn and trembling.

            Smirking, the Riddler leans in close to Diana’s face. “Tell me Princess… how does it feel to lose?”

            Diana stills. “You tell me?”

            She crashes their heads together, the Riddler’s nose breaking with a serious crunch. He flies backwards, hands racing to cover the leaking blood. Now without an owner, his staff begins sliding down until Diana grabs it. Then, with all the strength she can muster with her bracelets bound together, she slams the staff onto Donna’s chains and shatters them.

            Donna breaks free with a triumphant call. “Thank you Diana,” she says, freeing her, “I knew you’d get us out of here.”

            “Opportunity, Donna,” she says, “is always there for those who wait.”

            Cracking her knuckles, Donna toothily grins down at the Riddler who scrambles away. “Do we get a reward for waiting?”

            Diana rolls her eyes but hands the staff over nonetheless. “Nothing too serious,” she says, “remember he’s _weak_.”

            “I’ll be gentle…” Donna advances on the Riddler, grip tightening on his staff. Barry watches the scene play out, with the Riddler begging for Donna to be nice and telling her he learned his lesson. She ignores him, swinging his staff so that the question mark at the top catches his jaw and sends him flying into a row of cameras, knocking them off and cutting the transmission. 

* * *

            Barry pauses the video, smiling at where the purple question mark takes up the entire scene when the Riddler flew into the camera. Sliding the button back, he replays the moment Donna swung at the criminal and chuckles.

            It had been forever since he thought of that day, but there’s not a day that goes by he isn’t grateful the Riddler decided to put them through it.

            Bruce walks into the room, two mugs of coffee in hand. He takes his seat, lifting his arm so Barry can snuggle up next to him. Frowning, Bruce glances at his phone. “What are you watching?”

            Barry grabs for his coffee, taking a long sip before answering. “Remember that weird game show the Riddler put us through?”

            “How could I ever forget…” Bruce pecks at Barry’s cheek, smiling softly, “but I thought the feed was live, and Barbara destroyed any of his files?”

            “Apparently someone recorded it and put it up on Youtube,” he tells him, “Wally sent it to me.” The video popped up in his recommendations, Barry was told, and almost immediately his former sidekick sent it over to him.

            Along with a text, which said, “Remember that time I got you laid?”

            “Was it nice,” Bruce asks him, “watching it again?”

            “It was… informative.”

            “…How so?”

            Barry smirks, catching Bruce’s gaze before continuing. “I mean, I didn’t realize you flirted with so many other people as well as me…”

            Bruce blanches, hiding behind his coffee mug. “…Really?”

            “I must have forgotten after Wally’s answer,” he continues, “But there it was… it _really_ makes you think…”

            Sighing, he knocks his head against Barry’s in defeat. “Here’s an idea, do you want to go out tonight? To that restaurant downtown that you love followed by some dancing?”

            Barry kisses Bruce; delighting in the sparks that still jump between them even after all the years they’ve been together. “It’s a start,” he sighs, “but you’re not out of the bat-house yet.”

            “What’ll get me out?”

            Thinking it over, Barry grins and leans over to whisper into Bruce’s ear. “Why don’t we play a game…”

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? Let me know by dropping a kudos, comment, or both!


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